


Dean Is a Fan

by NyxErchomai



Category: The Hobbit, The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, RPS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 01:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxErchomai/pseuds/NyxErchomai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a massive fan of Aidan’s and when he gets cast in The Hobbit he can barely contain himself. He’s a bit starstruck by Aidan and is easily flustered and embarrassed (blushing, stuttering, etc). Aidan is so amused (and flattered) by this that he goes out of his way to do embarrassing things to Dean to get a reaction out of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Is a Fan

Luckily, Dean is alone when he’s told. _You’ve got the part_. He’s thankful for that, later on, because the noise he made was embarrassing enough without a large audience. Luckily Peter isn’t too fazed – he gets it – but Dean couldn’t imagine his colleagues would be too impressed. Especially Aidan. Dean would never admit it out loud, but he’s just a little bit of an Aidan fan. To be honest, it’s slightly embarrassing. Dean can barely think of their first meeting without blushing with secondhand embarrassment. He’d held out a shaking hand and stuttered hello and when Aidan clapped him on the shoulder Dean _actually stopped breathing_. Just for a moment, but he was almost 80% sure Aidan noticed. And if he didn’t, Dean’s blush would have definitely tipped him off.

After the reading, Dean had quite a while to reconcile himself to the fact that he was going to be working with AIDAN FREAKING TURNER. He would be ashamed to admit that he spent longer than he wanted in front of the mirror, practicing his “how not to look like a star struck idiot” face. But after all that practice, he still couldn’t get “hey, how’s it going” out without tripping over his own tongue. In fact, most of his first week was like that. He’d trip over his own tongue, or his own feet, or, on one occasion, someone else’s feet. It was embarrassing, and obvious, but Dean managed to hold onto his dignity – if only because everyone had the tact not to mention it. There were some laughs, and some muffled snickers (especially when Aidan asked everyone if there was a bruise on his chest (HIS BARE CHEST) and Dean walked into a door) but everyone seemed, for the most part, sympathetic.

Aidan, on the other hand, was amused. And flattered, but mostly he just felt gleeful amusement. He liked the attention. And he got a wicked sense of joy out of Dean’s embarrassment. So yeah, maybe he _did_ “accidentally” brush his fingers against Dean’s in the canteen. And maybe he did like the way Dean almost dropped his plate. It was funny. It was even funnier when they walked together and Aidan leaned just a little too far and let his shoulder just brushed up against Dean’s slightly – and Dean nearly walked into a door. And when they spoke and Dean’s cheeks turned red? Aidan would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. He was an actor. He enjoyed the attention. He enjoyed it almost as much as he liked riling Dean up.

This continued. When Aidan found out about Dean’s nickname, he would put Deano at the end of every sentence just to get a rise out of the Kiwi. And when that stopped working, Aidan would _accidentally_ run his leg up Dean’s when they sat together at a table. And every time, Dean would stutter or cough or blush or laugh nervously. And Aidan freakin’ loved it. Eventually, Dean’s star-struck awe faded. It was bound to happen, what with the constant exposure to more widely known celebrities. Especially when you spent nearly every waking hour with them, and saw them in every possible light. Angry, happy, frustrated, excited. There wasn’t much room for privacy, and Dean slowly grew accustomed to the reality of his situation. Which left Aidan without so much as a stutter to amuse him.

Aidan would be lying if he said the loss didn’t sting just a little. Irrationally, it felt a little bit like a rejection. Like Dean thought he wasn’t good enough anymore. So, Aidan did what any one would do: he upped the ante. He armed himself with determination and the resolve to get a rise out of Dean in any way possible, and set to work. When he slapped Dean surreptitiously on the ass during a shoot, Aidan thought Dean might actually pass out. And his blush was apparent, even under the false beard. Dean sent Aidan a confused – and embarrassed – look, and Aidan ruined the take by laughing. But the ass-slapping only worked once. After that, Dean didn’t blush again. He just returned the favour, much to Aidan’s surprise.

So, Aidan would attack hug Dean. Or tackle him. Or tug on his Fili-braids. And, every time, Dean’s blush made Aidan feel all fuzzy inside. It took months, but when Aidan found himself jokingly sitting on Dean’s lap at the lunch table, Aidan realised that he considered Dean one of his closest friends. And that thought made Aidan strangely elated, at least until Dean pushed him off onto the floor, to laughter from the rest of the cast.

Dean’s immunity grew stronger. Aidan pressed his freezing hands – courtesy of a sudden snowfall in New Zealand – against Dean’s bare back and Dean didn’t even bat an eyelid. Aidan’s disappointment was so great that he forgot all of his lines and couldn’t focus properly. It was irrational, to be so disappointed, but he wanted Dean to _notice_ him, like he used to. He wanted Dean to look at him like he had before – like Aidan was the greatest thing on the planet. Was that really too much to ask for?

But Dean seemed determined to do the exact opposite. And Aidan grew more determined. So determined that he hatched a plan that he was certain would make Dean blush. It was going to be tough. It was going to take sacrifice. And it was going to be great.

One night, when everyone retired early, Aidan slipped across the trailer park to knock quietly on Dean’s door. After a moment, Dean opened, squinting blearily into the darkness. He stepped back in surprise and Aidan barged inside, and then grinned sleepily.

“What’s up?” he asked. Aidan couldn’t help but think that, just a few months ago, Dean would never have been able to ask that without stumbling over his own words.

“I’m alright,” he replied, hands stuffed in his pockets. He’s suddenly nervous. It’s a crazy plan. But it’s gotta work. Not even Dean could stop himself from blushing at this one. So Aidan remained standing, even when Dean gestured for him to sit.

“I’ll make some tea,” Dean finally said, when the silence stretched. Aidan nodded, once, and Dean turned away. Aidan saw his chance. He shuffled forward, and stopped just inches behind Dean. Dean seemed to sense that he was there and turned, and Aidan leaned forward without any preamble and pressed his lips against Dean’s.

For a moment, he stayed like that. Dean seemed frozen, and Aidan wondered if he should pull away. Now, he told himself. Okay, now. Now. Now. Eventually, or at least what seemed like eventually, Aidan pulled away. Dean was blushing brightly, more brightly than ever, but Aidan couldn’t seem to remember why he’d wanted that. He couldn’t really seem to think straight at all, right now. He opened his mouth to say something, and found he couldn’t get the words out.

“I – um – I-” he stuttered, and gave up. He cleared his throat, and laughed. His voice sounded high, and nervous.

Dean seemed to be processing what had happened. He blinked, slowly, and then rapidly. His blush deepened. Then, just as the silence began to grow unbearable, he broke into a grin. And, quick as anything, he leaned forward and kissed Aidan again. And then again. When he pulled back, Aidan felt his cheeks grow warm. _Shit,_ he thought. _I wasn’t the one who was meant to blush._


End file.
